Pranksters Woes
by alien09
Summary: ‘Dis here matyr charade ain’ workin’ chere,’ Remy said softly. Rogue’s anger snapped.[Chapter 9 up]
1. From Pink to Funeral Procession

'Ah think we went too far Cajun.'  
  
'Don' worry chere. 'Member what de girl did t'y'.'  
  
Rogue shuddered, recalling the voice of Britney Spears blasting into her ears this morning.  
  
'Ah guess. But what if she tells tha Prof?'  
  
'Don' take Kitty t'be dat kind. She'll mos' likely plot revenge or sumt'ing, but not tattlin'.'  
  
'Ya're right. And it's not like we-'  
  
A shriek reverberated throughout the mansion.  
  
'My clothes! Their...the same colour!' Kitty shrieked.  
  
'Well duh. All she ever wears is pink,' Jubilee concluded, snapping her gum.  
  
'No, she does have this blue top. And the red blouse,' Amara pointed out. 'And a white tank top I think.'  
  
'What is Half-pint yelling about? She's givin' me a damn migraine,' Logan demanded, stalking into the room. 'Elf? You got somethin' to do with this?'  
  
Kurt looked offended. 'Vhy is it that everytime something bad happens, you all point the finger at me?'  
  
'Cause Blue, you're the one that always has something to do with it,' Tabitha put in.  
  
'And why exactly are you here?' Logan growled.  
  
'What? A girl has to eat,' Tabitha said.  
  
'He means why exactly are you doing it here,' Bobby put in helpfully.  
  
'You're kidding me right? Do you have any idea what it's like living with those slobs?' Tabitha asked, referring to the Brotherhood. 'Rogue! Help a girl out here!'  
  
'Well, she is right Wolvie,' Rogue said. Logan's growl got darker at the nickname while snickers and stares of disbelief rippled across the room. 'The Hood aren't what'd ya call tha most healthy eaters.'  
  
Logan was about to reply when Kitty burst into the room, her hands full with clothing.  
  
'You!' She screeched, flinging the clothes at her roommate. 'Why did you do this to me? Do you have any idea how much time it'll, like, take to get all that gunk off?'  
  
'Ah don' see what tha problem is? Do you Swamp Rat?'  
  
'Non. Mus' be de p'tite's imagination.'  
  
'Mr. Logan!' Kitty said loudly. Logan winced. Beating bad guys and staring death in the face he could handle, but not upset teenagers.  
  
'Ya said somethin' about tattlin' sugah?' Rogue muttered to Remy.  
  
'Chuck's gonna owe me for this,' he mumbled under his breath. He then sighed heavily. 'Stripes, care to explain?'  
  
'No, not really,' Rogue replied, pushing back her hair. 'Her clothes look perfectly fine ta meh.'  
  
'Fine?' Kitty's voice had become deathly calm. 'Fine?' Her voice started to crescendo. 'You call dying black every single piece of clothing I had *fine*!'  
  
'Ah think Ah've done somethin' for tha fashion world. Don' you Logan? Ah mean, all that pink must have been pretty harsh on ya enhanced sight and all.'  
  
'Are you criticizing my dressing?' Kitty asked, hands flailing about in the air. 'Is she criticizing my dressing Kurt?'  
  
'Urm...I...ah...vell,' Kurt stuttered.  
  
'Well, like, spit it out already!' Kitty said.  
  
'Yeah Kurt. Ya got something ya wanna say?' Rogue asked, a little too sweetly in Kurt's opinion. He looked at a hassled Kitty, to a sugary Rogue, and couldn't decide whether months of fried electrical equipment or freezing Death Glares were better. The smirk on Remy's face was answer enough.  
  
'I think I hear Storm calling me. Vhy don't you ask Remy?' Kurt said nervously, teleporting out.  
  
'You know, by the looks of it, I think Morticia and Gomez over there were in this together,' Jubilee offered. Rogue narrowed her eyes dangerously at the younger girl.  
  
'Hey!' Remy protested. 'M'don' t'ink Remy's as ugly as dat man.'  
  
'Are ya calling me ugly?' Rogue asked him, whirling around.  
  
'Chere, y'know dat dere is no one else in dis world dat can compare t'y',' Remy said dramatically. He leaned in closer to her. 'An' besides, m't'inks Morticia's sexy as hell,' he whispered into her ear, causing her to blush profusely.  
  
'Whateva Cajun,' Rogue mumbled.  
  
'Ahem! Is anyone forgetting that my clothes, like, all now resemble a funeral procession?' Kitty rose.  
  
'Not really,' Bobby offered, biting his lip as he concentrated on his video game.  
  
'No one was talking to you Iceboy!' Kitty said.  
  
'Okay.' Bobby said, not taking his eyes off the TV. 'It's Ice*man*. Do I need to spell it out to you people?'  
  
'No. We all just don't think of you as a man,' Tabitha hollered from the kitchen.  
  
Logan massaged his temples, feeling the ache throb in the middle of his skull. Adolescence was not something he enjoyed very much.  
  
'Look. Stripes, you're gonna wash every thing that you dyed and make sure it comes out good and-'  
  
'Pink?' Rogue offered dryly. 'Cause God forbid tha girl wears anything else.'  
  
'And Gumbo, you're gonna help her.'  
  
'W'at? Since when Remy's gettin' punished?'  
  
'Since you two decided to piss me off,' Logan growled. 'And Kitty, you're getting extra Danger Room sessions with me.'  
  
'What?' Kitty cried. 'But I'm, like, the victim in all of this!'  
  
'Don' think I didn't hear you sneak out for your little rendezvous with Tumbler.'  
  
Kitty's cheeks started to turn red as Rogue laughed.  
  
'Busted,' Amara whispered.  
  
'Fine,' Kitty mumbled. 'But I'm still, like, angry with you!' She said, pointing at Rogue.  
  
'Call this payback,' Rogue countered.  
  
'For what?' Kitty asked.  
  
'Playing that blonde bimbo loudly every morning!' Rogue said.  
  
'At least it's, like, more cheerful that then depressing suicide songs you like! What do you do? Like, slit your wrists to it?'  
  
'At least its better then listening ta some slutty person, who can' decide if she's a woman or girl, screech her lungs out ta a sappy love song!'  
  
'Well, at least she, like, has some experience with those kinda things!' Kitty yelled before gasping and covering her mouth. Silence descended upon the room as Rogue slowly turned visibly purple under her make-up. Sounds of Bobby's car smashing against a virtual street light echoed ominously.  
  
'Ya think Ah like havin' this?' Rogue started, pointedly waving her gloved hands in Kitty's face. 'Ya think Ah like tha fact that Ah haven't touched a single person for god knows how long?'  
  
'Rogue,' Remy said soothingly, stroking her upper arm. She jerked away, as if she'd been burned.  
  
'Rogue, I'm so sorry,' Kitty said, pleading.  
  
'Ya know what? Ah don' even know why Ah bother,' Rogue said, shaking her head. 'Ah thought ya would be one of tha few people who understood me, but Ah guess Ah was wrong. Should'ave known Ah'd be better off alone,' she finished, almost to herself.  
  
'Rogue,' Kitty whispered, tears forming at the corner of her eyes.  
  
'Chere,' Remy whispered into her ear, grasping her hand. Rogue looked startled, as if visibly shaken out of a trance. She glanced from a teary Kitty, a concerned Remy and then to the small cluster of students who had just witnessed her outburst. Without a word, she gently pulled her hand from Remy's and all but sprinted to the mansion doors. The wooden portal banged closed as the scuffing of Rogue's boots faded away.  
  
'Merde,' Remy said, running a hand through his hair. He turned to Kitty and felt the first course of resentment towards the girl Rogue had considered a close friend.  
  
'Y'happy now?' He simply said, bitterness creeping through.  
  
'Yeah Kitty, that was way harsh,' Jubilee said, Amara nodding.  
  
'Ice cold,' Bobby said seriously, not realizing the pun.  
  
Logan, who had remained quiet throughout the whole thing, finally spoke up.  
  
'I'm going after her,' the feral man said, as if daring anyone to question him. Remy didn't seem to hear him, shooting daggers at a trembling Kitty.  
  
'Woah,' Tabitha's voice broke through as Logan went after Rogue. 'Did I miss something?'  
  
Author's note: This is like a one-shot fic...but if I get decent interest I could do more...*hint hint*. 


	2. Figure This Out on My Own

Rogue angrily brushed the tears streaming down her face, smearing off some of her white powder onto her glove. She stilled her leather-clad hands and wanted to rip them off. They were nothing but a constant reminder to her that she was an anomaly amongst those that strayed from the norm. They were cold and inhuman, much like she was.

She still didn't know why Kitty's comment, as silly as it seemed, had set her off like that. She was usually able to keep her emotions well in check, honing the cool and aloof persona she chose to portray. The Gothic garb and appearance helped keep people away even more, widening the circle of isolation few but her were allowed into.

She heard the soft crunch of boots behind her.

'Ah ain't in tha mood rahgt now Logan,' she said, not slowing her pace. It was always Logan who came to get her. Up ahead she spotted the wooden gazebo overlooking the lake within the Institute's grounds.

'Ya're never in the mood Stripes,' Logan simply replied. His hand shot out and grabbed her shoulder – covered by mesh and leather - to slow her down.

'Don' touch meh!' Rogue all but yelled out. Logan merely grunted in response, jerking her around gently. Her green eyes blazed with anger and her streaked makeup presented an amusing yet heartbreaking picture to the short feral man.

'You look like a demented clown,' he remarked, chuckling slightly. Her anger increased.

'Thank ya Wolvie, that makes meh feel so much betta,' she responded dryly. 'Ya might want ta take ya're hands off before Ah put ya in a coma.'

'Stripes, I'm one of the damn people in this mansion that doesn't flinch whenever I touch ya.'

'Yeah. 'Cause the rest of 'em back there are smart enough ta stay away from a gal who can render 'em unconscious.'

Logan sighed, keeping his hold on the younger girl.

'Look Rogue, I ain't gonna come out here and start preachin' to ya how I understand what ya're goin' through, 'cause that'd just be a load of bull. But what I can say is that I'm sick and tired of ya wallowing in self- pity.'

'Self-pity?' Rogue yelled, causing Logan to wince mentally. 'Ah do not wallow!'

'Really? Then what do ya call lockin' yourself up in ya room all day and only comin' out when everyone is asleep? With that damn Cajun no less,' Logan growled.

'Ya think Ah like that? Trust meh, if Ah could jus' force mahself to mingle Ah would. But afta havin' all those psyches screamin' around up in mah head, and loosin' control of 'em, Ah wouldn't exactly want ta repeat tha experience.'

'You're lettin' your powers control ya Stripes.'

'Ah am mah power! Ah'm protectin' all of ya'll from havin' to be sucked dry lahke some kind of vaccum cleaner,' Rogue answered angrily, waving around her covered hands in front of him.

'Ya're protectin' no one but yourself. I know ya kid, and I know ya can beat this and control it.'

Logan found himself staring into a pair of jade eyes, filled with disappointment and self-hatred.

'Maybe ya don' know meh as well as ya thought.'

Rogue pulled herself out of his grasp and bolted into the woods. Logan sighed and muttered under his breath.

'Ya can come out now Gumbo,' Logan said.

'Magnifique job Wolvie. Y'managed to scare ma chere off wit' y're wonderful social skills.'

Logan's claws popped out and he extended them towards the cocky teenager, who merely grinned in response.

'If it weren' for the fact that Rogue likes ya – for some twisted reason – I'd gut ya right now.'

'An' if it weren' f'de fact dat mon chere likes y' – f'reasons beyond m'comprehension – y'd be charged up like one of m'cards.'

'Jus' go talk to her before I kill ya,' Logan growled, his patience wearing thin. As much as he hated to admit it, the Cajun stood a better chance at getting through to the Southern girl than he did. Gambit gave him a mocking salute and disappeared in the direction Rogue had fled.

'I need a drink,' Logan mumbled to himself, his hands massaging his temples.

Rogue thought longingly of the gazebo standing peacefully behind her as she pushed through the trees and underbrush. It had been her spot, where she had gone to sort herself out after discovering that Kurt was her brother and Mystique her mother. Rogue cringed as she thought of the blue-skinned woman. As if her life wasn't screwed up enough that she had to have a psychotic terrorist for a mother. Rogue sighed as she thought of what everyone would think if she had chosen to reveal this particular fact about herself. The only person who knew was Kurt; she owed him that much.

'Goin' somewhere chere?'

Rogue rolled her eyes. What did it take to get a moment's peace in this place? The familiar scent of cigarette smoke and cinnamon entered her nose. Rogue inhaled it discreetly, marveling at how Remy always managed to smell that way, even after all this time. It was oddly comforting.

'Did Logan send ya afta meh?' She asked, resigned. She continued pushing through the forest, hoping that the Acadian would take the hint. Unfortunately, Remy was almost as stubborn as she was.

'Y'know dat Remy never listens t'wha' de badger tells 'im t'do chere. Don' see any reason f'm' t'start now.'

'Look Remy, Ah ain' gonna try an' be nice ta ya. So go bother someone else right now, alright?'

'Non Rogue.'

That caused Rogue to turn around abruptly. From the day she had met Remy, he had never once uttered her name, choosing instead to refer to her as 'chere'. In fact, he seemed serious.

'Did'ya jus' call meh by mah name?' Rogue asked incredulously, her misery forgotten for just a moment. Almost as suddenly, the ever present smirk he seemed to have plastered on his face appeared, giving his features a rakish quality. It was hard not to see why woman found him attractive.

_Except meh of course. No guy would ever want a gal they couldn' touch. _

Remy looked at Rogue, studied her really. The shock – had it been pleasant? – had worn off and her eyes seemed to harden, like two chips of hard emerald set into a beautiful visage hidden by layers of powder and paint.

_C'mon chere...tell dis Cajun w'at t'do. _

'Remy know's dat dis here t'ing got not'ing t'do w'it de Kitty Kat's clothes,' Remy started, unsure of where to begin. With Rogue, he always had to be delicate. He thought before he spoke. She was different from the rest; Remy could tell the first day he laid eyes on her. 'An' y've been cryin'.'

'Ain' ya the observant one Swampy,' Rogue replied sarcastically. She turned to leave and Remy grabbed her hand.

'Y'flinched,' he stated softly, seeing her wince as his hand encompassed hers. 'Y'never done dat before w'it dis Cajun,' he said, almost to himself.

'Didn' ya hear meh Swamp Rat! Ah said don' touch meh!' She hissed to him.

'Why?' Remy asked. 'De wors' dat could 'appen is gettin' absorbed by a belle fille.'

'This ain' a joke _Gambit_. But then again, ain' everythin' nothin' but a big fat shaggy dog story ta ya?'

'Chere,' Remy started, regretting his words. He gave himself a swift kick mentally. 'Jus' stop an' listen t'dis here Cajun f'a minute? S'il vous plaît, pour moi (Please, for me) ?'

'Ahm sorry Remy, but there's nothin' ya can say that will make everythin' alright,' Rogue said. The tone of her voice tore at Remy's heart; it seemed like a lost little girl trying desperately to make sense of the world.

And the next thing he knew, a familiar cloud of brimstone and sulphur erupted. Remy coughed violently as the noxious fumes entered his air passage.

'Quel le fuck (What the fuck)?' Remy said.

Rogue was gone.


	3. Loosing Control

'Ich soll aus dort suchend sie, hier die nicht sitzt, machend nichts sein (I should be out there looking for her, not sitting here doing nothing),' Kurt muttered to himself, his forked tail swaying back and forth as his agitation mounted. He had heard the weighty double doors of the mansion slam shut with such force, he had immediately equated that Rogue was in a bad mood. He had been with Colussus then, hiding away from both his sister and Kitty, knowing that it was wise to avoid getting entangled in any fights those two engaged in. He had learnt the hard way of course.  
  
'Not again,' Kurt had muttered to himself.  
  
'Does this happen often?' The Russian had asked him, pausing in his sketch to question him as one of the framed pictures nearby had quivered slightly.  
  
'You could say that. Ve try and stay away from them both afterwards,' Kurt responded, subtly warning Piotr.  
  
'Da. I believe that is very sensible,' Piotr replied, returning to his work. Kurt stared at the towering Colussus, noting that this was the longest conversation the two had ever had since the Acolytes had moved in with the X-Men. Piotr generally tended to keep to himself, shying away from the rest and preferring to indulge in his artistic aspirations. Though Kurt had spotted Kitty and him together on several occasions, the valley girl chattering on endlessly as Piotr quietly listened to what she was saying.  
  
It was only when he had finally deemed it safe enough to venture out unharmed did he come upon the scene in the foyer. A sobbing Shadowcat being comforted by an uncomfortable Amara, who was trying to not let the older girl's tears stain her designer shirt; an enraged Remy cursing a blue streak – or at least sounded like he was, considering that he didn't speak a word of French.  
  
'Quand Remy obtient le sien transmet sur cette balle bleue au poil touffu, allant me charger son âne désolé en haut (When Remy get's his hands on that furry blue ball, me going to charge his sorry ass up)!'  
  
'Gumbo, if ya ain' gonna speak proper English, shut the hell up,' Kurt heard Logan grind out.  
  
'Vhat's going on?' Kurt asked. Only to have a very angry Cajun try and pounce on him.  
  
'Where did y'take ma chere?' Remy practically bellowed out, as he struggled to get free from Logan's grip.  
  
'Huh? Vhat are you talking about? I was up vith Piotr this whole time!' Kurt protested, noticing the heated glare Remy was sending his way.  
  
'Remy saw de smoke, had t'breathe in de emanations méchantes (nasty fumes)! Y'callin' Remy a liar homme?'  
  
'No, I'm just saying that there's something wrong vith you!' Kurt retorted, his eyes narrowing at the Acadian.  
  
'What is going on?' Peter's baritone voice broke through any comment Remy would have made in response to Kurt's barb. The tall Russian stood beside Kurt, a look of confusion drawing his features.  
  
'What is this? A goddamn session of Twenty Questions?' Logan barked out, still maintaining his hold on Gambit. 'Rogue's missing and Gumbo here thinks that you teleported her outta there when him and her were talking.'  
  
'And you think *I* took her? Vhat are you, insane?' Kurt said. 'And vhy is she gone?'  
  
A gut-wrenching sob from Kitty threw Kurt off momentarily, as did her actions. She extracted herself from Amara and bolted up the stairs to throw herself into Piotr, who looked like a deer caught in a pair of headlights. Finally, he decided on awkwardly patting Kitty's trembling frame. He did not miss the growl Logan gave at the sight. Anxious, Kurt ported beside Logan, though keeping a healthy distance away from the former Acolyte.  
  
'Vhat happened?' The blue boy insisted.  
  
'Lemme give it to you straight Elf,' Jubilee announced, cracking her gum. 'The Addams family dyed Kit's clothes black. Kit started her banshee fest. Rogue retaliated. Some words were exchanged, leaning towards the Rogue 'no touchy' variety. Emotions swelled. Rogue's gone. Got it?'  
  
'Vhat?' Kurt whispered. No. The one person who he was tied to with the bonds of family, the one person he could truly be himself around...Rogue!  
  
'That word seems to be his only exclamation of surprise,' Amara noted.  
  
'What can I say blue-blood? Must be a foreign thing,' Jubilee said, before blowing and popping a small bubble.  
  
'Warum ist jeder nur stehend hier? Wir müssen Fund sie gehen! (Why is everyone just standing here? We have to go find her!)' Kurt demanded.  
  
'Doesn't anyone in this place speak English anymore?' Logan asked.  
  
'Where is ma chere!' Remy exploded, once again regaining Kurt's focus.  
  
'I did not take her,' Kurt replied menacingly, baring his canines and his yellow eyes flashing slightly.  
  
'He was with me,' Piotr spoke up. His hands ceased stroking Kitty's back as Logan looked their way again.  
  
'If it wasn' y', den how did de femme manage t'do de disappearin' act?' Remy said accusingly.  
  
'It wasn't Kurt that made Rogue teleport Remy,' the Professor's smooth voice cut through. 'It was Rogue herself who did it.' Xavier rolled into the foyer, Ororo beside him.  
  
Logan finally let go of Remy, who appeared less angry then before, taking in the Professor's words.  
  
'But that's not possible Professor,' Kurt said, also distracted from his anger. 'Didn't ve managed to help her keep control?'  
  
'I will discuss this later on. For now, Storm will go out and retrieve her.' Xavier nodded to the white-haired woman, who inclined her head and took off.  
  
'Remy be goin' too.'  
  
'Hold your horses Cajun. Ya ain' goin' nowhere.'  
  
'Vhat about me?'  
  
'Non! Dere is no way Grover is comin' wit m'! De las' t'ing Remy needs is blue fur givin' away 'is trail!'  
  
Kurt growled menacingly.  
  
'Trust me, one whiff of your body odour will send them packing,' Logan commented.  
  
'Neither of you will go. I believe that you have a Danger Room session to prep for Logan,' Xavier told the instructor steadily, his tone carrying a sense of authority that even the Wolverine felt compelled to obey.  
  
'Fine,' the Canadian said gruffly. A smirk played upon his face before he spoke again. 'Gumbo, Elf and Tin Can. Suit up and meet me in five minutes.' Logan cracked his knuckles eagerly.  
  
'Merveilleux (Wonderful). De badger's so happy because he wants t'make m'death seem like an accident.'  
  
'Ja kamerad (comrade). Whatever you said,' Kurt agreed. 'But I think ve should be even more worried for Piotr.'  
  
'Why is that?' Piotr questioned calmly, attempting, along with Jubilee and Amara, to pry the still sobbing Shadowcat off.  
  
'If he didn't like Lance touching Kitty, what makes you think he'll like you any better?' Kurt asked before porting up to his room to change.  
  
'Yeah Petey,' Jubilee said as Amara all but dragged Kitty away. 'It was nice knowing ya. And remember,' she continued with a flirtatious wink, 'I'm still available if you need me.'  
  
With that, she walked out, leaving behind a red-faced Russian, an amused Xavier and a slightly smirking Remy.  
  
Rogue coughed as more of the toxic smoke went through her nose. She fiercely tried waving away the black cloud that surrounded her, rapidly dissipating as a soft breeze swept through.  
  
'Kurt! Get down here before Ah really get mad!' She called, feeling the slow tide of anger begin to engulf her. 'Kurt!' She yelled herself hoarse. A frown marred her features as she studied where her so-called brother had brought her. The late afternoon sun burned less brightly, pale rays of light slicing through the leafy canopy that stretched endlessly over her head.  
  
Great. Kurt had taken his Tarzan obsession a bit too far.  
  
'If ya don' show ya'self by tha time Ah count ta three, they'll never find tha body parts,' she vowed. 'An' Ah've been spendin' way too much time with Wolverine.'  
  
Her thoughts returned to her mentor, her father figure if she dared – after all, she wasn't sure what self-respecting dad would encourage his daughter to rip a certain cocky Cajun to bits if he got 'too fresh wit'cha'. She knew he had been trying to help but his words just seemed to push her further away from the possibility of her ever gaining control of her powers. It was almost as if she had formed an impenetrable barrier in her mind towards the likelihood of that eventually happening. A faint rustle broke her train of thought.  
  
'Kurt?' She said uncertainly. 'This ain' funny anymore Elf.'  
  
'I'm afraid that Kurt was forced to remain back at the mansion. Hopefully, I'll prove a viable substitute,' Ororo's voice responded instead. Rogue looked up, her attention held by the descending weather goddess. Her white hair streamed down behind her and her eyes faded from a crisp white to her striking blue eyes. Storm landed beside her with poise and grace, leaving little for others to question her once regal standing amongst the tribes in Africa.  
  
'Ah bet he teleported back 'cause he knew wha' was gonna come at him,' Rogue mumbled, loud enough for Storm to hear.  
  
'What are you talking about child? Kurt has not stepped foot out of the mansion. Though,' Storm added dryly, 'not for lack of trying on his part.'  
  
'Then how did Ah get here? Ah couldn't have teleported here by mahself,' Rogue retorted. Storm's eyes revealed little, but Rogue saw a little pity somewhere in her look. She snorted mentally, wondering why she would ever want to feel sorry for herself when there were so many others ready to do the job for her.  
  
'Young Remy did mention something about you teleporting when he returned back. But all the French he managed to slip in could have caused some discrepancies,' Storm replied evenly. Rogue rolled her eyes at the thought of Remy speaking in rapid fire French – something which he usually did when he was particularly upset or angry, and also because he believed no one in the mansion spoke the tongue. She smirked, thinking of his reaction if she let slip one day in the future that she spoke fluent français.  
  
'He also assumed that Kurt was the one to have taken you away as you two were conversing. It turns out that his blame too, was misguided.'  
  
No...it couldn't be. The Professor had assured her that day that he had managed to safely lock away all the psyches that had been floating around in her mind. She herself had seen him build the mental safeguard in her head during their many sessions together.  
  
'Ya don' know what ya're talkin' about,' Rogue told the adult flatly. 'There ain' no way Ah could 'ave teleported when Kurt's psyche's been locked away by tha Professor.'  
  
'My child,' Storm began tentatively. Rogue felt her blood turn icy in trepidation as Storm's tone of voice registered in her mind. It was exactly like the Professor's when he had told her of the torrid mess her mind was bound to become if she didn't exact enough control; like Logan's when he had been forced to confront her about Mystique's relationship with her – which she had stalwartly refused to divulge – and when Kurt had tearfully confessed to her that it had been their own mother who had abandoned them both. In retrospect, she didn't predict much enjoyment on her behalf from whatever Storm was about to say.  
  
'When Xavier used Cerebro to try and locate you, he detected another's presence-'  
  
Rogue had the sudden urge to lift her hand and drain Storm dry.  
  
'In your mind,' Storm finished. 'He believes that there is someone else attempting to take over your-'  
  
'Isn' there always someone? Ah mean, that's all Ah'm good for ain' it? Nothin' more then a tool for some megalomaniac ta use for world dominance!' The last words came out as decibel-evading shriek as the Goth struggled to keep her emotions in check.  
  
'Rogue,' Storm begun soothingly, reaching out for the conflicted teen.  
  
'Don' touch meh!' Rogue vehemently screeched. Small drops of water pelted them both and the surrounding area. Storm looked up and was shocked to see thick, grey rain clouds cluster together. Thunder rumbled ominously as the weather witch felt the raindrops become bigger, heavier.  
  
'Child, calm yourself!' Storm said loudly as she herself tried to calm the growing unease Rogue was generating in the environement.  
  
'Look at meh 'Ro. Ah ain' nothin' but a pawn. Nothin' more, nothin' less. Whoeva wants in up inta this,' Rogue's eyes flashed pearly white as she tapped her temple, 'don' know what they're gettin' themselves inta.'  
  
'You can fight this Rogue,' Storm found herself pleading, finally managing to grab onto Rogue's shoulders. Storm couldn't feel the ice forming on her hands, slowing making their way up her wrists, but her eyes widened when she caught sight of the frost binding her hands to Rogue.  
  
'It's funny ya know? Logan said tha same thin' ta meh but for some reason, Ah jus' can' make mahself believe it,' Rogue said softly, almost a whisper. But Storm heard it nonetheless.  
  
'Rogue, you are one of the strongest people I know. Do not let this consume you!' Storm said loudly. The rain was now coming down in sheets, beating down mercilessly on the two of them. Trees swayed threateningly about. She saw Rogue look down at her ice-encased hands, a vacant glaze seeming to come over her eyes as she saw the water make rivets in the ice. Rogue's emerald eyes shifted – from green to white, from white to blue, and then to a haunting golden yellow.  
  
'See this hole?' Rogue asked Storm, pointing to a coin-sized gap that had appeared in the crystalline structure. Storm vaguely noticed that the tempest Rogue had created was growing weaker as her interest became fixated on the opening, allowing for the older woman to restrain the sudden natural squall.  
  
'Tha ice, it was once nice an' whole wasn' it? But all that water ate away at it, slowly eatin' away at it. An' this hole jus' made itself, even though it had all these layers.' Rogue trailed away, looking Storm straight in the eye. Ororo saw that same vacant look plastered on her face, and shivered slightly.  
  
'Ah'm like that piece of ice 'Ro. Only thin' is, Ah've had more than enough rainwater to make that hole so big, it *did* consume meh. An' there ain' nothin' Ah've tried that can make it freeze over again,' Rogue said distantly. And Storm felt the ice melt away and the sun hit her back, warming the water dripping down her costume.  
  
And Rogue fall limp in her arms, her face unmarred and peaceful.  
  
A/N: Whew. I'm done with this chapter. I know...it's not up there plot or standard wise but I just had to let it all out! Please review...even flames are greatly appreciated. Constructive criticism is good. 


	4. Mental Interlude

**Author's Note:**

**I'm baaack! After lord knows how long. The whole Cody concept sucked. So it took me ages just to come up with this filler. I seriously need a beta. Anyone interested? I've been suffering a major case of writer's block and a hectic life. Please forgive me )**

**--**

She sighed, all the frustration she felt channeling into that simple sound. Steam wafted around her, clinging to her bare shoulders and face. Raising a hand, Rogue wiped the mirror in front of her, clearing away the mist to reveal a much clearer picture of herself. Pale skin stared back at her, auburn and white striped locks hanging limp and damp. But what struck her most was the empty look in her eyes. A hand tentatively reached out to brush against the emerald reflections before falling away to remain motionless at her side.

_The psyches are getting restless Rogue…_

The Professor's words echoed listlessly in her head. Seemingly in response, a sharp pain pierced her head, making her clutch her head in silent agony. Why couldn't they just leave her alone? Just as fast as it had appeared, the pain faded away in an instant, leaving Rogue gasping. The pain had started growing in intensity ever since she had awoken that day in the Med Bay, the worried faces of the Professor, Logan, Storm and Beast hovering over her, partially blocking the blinding fluorescent light.

_These headaches you've been experiencing, why didn't you speak to me sooner about them?_

Because she was tired of sitting in the leather chair of Xavier's office, trying to find a way to solidify the weak walls of her mind into an impenetrable fortress. Because she was tired of living her life in constant isolation, never being able to share the intimate touch of another human being. Because, quite frankly, she was sick of living a lie.

_We're here to help you Rogue. Please, let us in._

She had let someone in. And she had left him behind in Mississippi, along with a chapter of her life she longed to go back to, yet close off at the same time. Her mouth quirked up in a smile as she thought of Irene, the woman's cane tapping reassuringly beside her as they walked the banks of the river, the older woman listening patiently as Rogue rambled on about the wonders of Mother Nature. And then there had been Cody…

Lord, Logan was right. She _was _drowning in self-pity. Rogue twisted the tap, cupping her hands beneath the icy water gushing out. An arc of water splashed into her face, the stinging cold jolting her out of her reverie. She could do this. She had faced worse and had managed to come out on top. Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, Rogue made for the door.

--

Remy watched as the once friendly game of mutant soccer became an all out war. Bobby had frozen up into his iced form, currently attempting to freeze off Magma's fiery hair. Jubilee ducked as Sam whizzed by her, his path marked by a fast breeze. An army of little Jamie's ran amok in the field, the clones and the sole original weaving their way in and out of the chaos to get to the ball.

'Oh no you don't!' Roberto yelled, a small ball of fire starting to form in his upturned palm. The Jamie that faced the older mutant donned a mask of perfect innocence.

A shrill, sharp whistle pierced through the din, making Remy wince in pain. It didn't seem to affect the New Mutants though. The small ball in Roberto's hand continued to gain in size. He watched, amused, as Logan stalked towards the band of teenagers, his fists unconsciously clenching and unclenching.

'Are ya jus' gonna sit there an' smirk all day Gumbo?' Logan growled, surveying the damage. A large crater now marked where Roberto's ball of fire had exploded, grass and mud flying everywhere, drawing more enraged shrieks from the female players.

'M'jus' enjoyin' de peace an' quiet,' Remy replied, grateful for having chosen to reside on a branch of one of the institute's many willow trees. The man known as Wolverine graced him with a glare before turning his full attention to the unknowing group, impatience radiating off him in waves.

A flash of white up on a balcony caught Remy's eye as Logan exploded into a litany of curses he was sure the Professor would immediately frown upon. He squinted, trying to decipher who it was. A lone figure stood at the railing, leaning over with a hand supporting her chin.

_Rogue._

Remy's heart lurched unexpectedly at the name. Her unusual hair danced in the wind as she looked out over the grounds, her body unmoving. He hadn't seen her since the day she had well, lost control. The Professor had calmly reminded them all to allow Rogue time and space to adjust and recuperate from her taxing ordeal, refusing to say anything other than that she had suffered a mild relapse. And Remy had agreed, albeit reluctantly. After all, he didn't want to risk drawing the wrath of Logan or Storm.

So he had stayed away. All the while, a multitude of conversations had played out in his head between the two of them. Rogue had gathered both his hands in his in one scenario, pledging her undying love and devotion to him. That was what unnerved him. Love wasn't a word he usually associated with women.

_After all, look w'at Cupid gone an' done w'it dis here Cajun…_

A memory of blonde hair and blue eyes encased in a black leather suit surfaced unbidden in his mind, bringing with it a torrent of bitterness and betrayal. Yes, love had struck him with a vengeance once before. And it had left him with nothing but a tattered heart and a hefty mark on his head. Remy was no longer welcome in the Big Easy, the one place where he truly called home. He fixed his eyes on Rogue once again, trying to remind himself why this girl was so different from the others he had encountered.

For one, Remy thought with a wry smile, she seemed immune to his charms, warding off his blatant advances with tenacity. That put her above any other girl he had ever had the pleasure, or misfortune, of encountering. While other girls fawned all over him when he let slip a French endearment, Rogue simply raised an eyebrow, pointing out repeatedly that she would never, _ever_, be his _chere_. But now…it was difficult to identify the forlorn figure above him with the vivacious Goth he had come to know. After Storm had arrived with Rogue in her arms, he had managed to skim a few details off the gossip that suddenly seemed to permeate every conversation. Rogue loosing control of the many psyches inside her head seemed to not be a one time affair. Apparently, it had happened before during a battle with the now somewhat defunct Brotherhood. The Professor had managed to subdue the raging mental entities, though just barely. He had seen worry crease the Charles Xavier's brow during the debriefing, as well as the concern etched deep into his eyes.

'All of ya better getcha asses down into tha Danger Room-'

A loud sound of protest erupted from the gathered group of rookies.

'Keep that kinda thinkin', and ya last session will look like a cakewalk,' Logan warned, growling loudly. Remy saw several faces pale as a sudden hush descended over the field. The Acadian sympathized with them – his body _still _ached from the nightmare Logan had put them through after Remy had attempted to maim Kurt.

'Well?'

Feet immediately started scrambling as limbs flailed everywhere in the haste to get to the locker rooms as fast as their legs could carry.

'If anyone needs me, tell 'em I'm occupied,' Logan said before stalking away. Remy ensured Logan was a considerable distance away before descending from his perch, his feet landing lightly on the soft grass. Rogue had disappeared from the balcony. A smirk begun to form on his face.

Maybe she was lonely…

--

Rogue padded silently down the corridor, feet sinking into the plush carpet beneath her. The mansion seemed eerily quiet now, the usual raucous now gone, replaced by the faint thrum of the thermostats. Only Logan's Danger Room sessions could accomplish the unthinkable, she thought with a small smile – pacify the hyperactivity that the teenage years generated. It would be easier then to speak to the Professor.

She tugged absently at the formfitting white long-sleeved t-shirt that she wore over a simple pair of dark stained jeans. She never knew she owned anything so bright, her wardrobe usually consisting of deep rich colours, such as blacks, plums and forest greens. White was the colour of innocence, the psyches had railed, a concept that had long since eluded her. But something about the shirt had struck her, made her pull it over her head before her mind could protest. The white almost seemed to bleed into her pale skin, she noted, looking down at her hand as it glided down the wooden railing. A stark irony indeed - the dove white of virtue against the scarred black of her mental soul. The previous determination she had felt started to crumble, ebbing away bit by bit.

'_Bonjour chere,' _a familiar voice greeted her. Her steps halted abruptly as she felt her heart start to hammer wildly against her chest. She lifted her eyes to focus on Remy, who leaned against the huge double doors of the mansion, his posture relaxed. Words refused to form, her vocal cords rebuffing the notion of saying anything to him.

_But he's my friend. Remy's my friend…_

**Who would befriend a vampire of souls?**

Rogue shook her head, dispelling the second voice. The psyches were getting stronger.

'_Chere_?' Remy asked, concern lacing his voice.

'Ah'm fahne.' Her voice came out gravelly, like it had been treated with sandpaper. Her accent had thickened too, she noticed.

'Y'sure?'

Rogue nodded in response, beginning to feel nervous under Remy's intense stare. His demonic eyes had never scared her before. It was just a part of Remy that made him…well, _Remy_. She always felt somewhat unsettled whenever he masked his red on black irises with the holographic watch Beast had passed along to the young Cajun. She heard him clear his throat, trying to break the awkward silence that seemed to have descended upon the two of them.

'About w'at happened dat day at de-'

'Ah don't want to talk about it,' Rogue replied shortly, trying to ignore the brief shadow of hurt she had seen cross Remy's face. The whole thing seemed so unreal, and maybe if she could just bring herself to wake up, this would all be like a dream…a nightmare that constantly loomed on the horizon.

**You think this is a nightmare? Like, try getting stuck in some freako Goth's head for all eternity and _then _we'll start talking about bad dreams!**

This time the psyche's voice – had that been Kitty? No one else she knew used the word _like _quite like the suburban valley girl herself – was like a bullet wound to her skull, impacting and resonating with as much subtlety as Wolverine in a feral rage. She felt her body pitch forward, both her hands coming up sharply to press hard against her temples.

_Why can't you just leave me alone? What have I done to you?_

**Done? **This time it was Logan's psyche, the animal side of him becoming unhinged, leaking his raw rage deep into her mind. **Ya call drainin' someone of their memories _nothing_? Ya call takin' pieces of me that I don't want anyone to know about _absolutely nothing_? **

'No,' she rasped, feeling Remy's footfalls as he rushed forward to catch her body. 'Please, just leave me alone!'

In the distance, she could hear Remy frantically call out to her, his fingers trailing lightly across her scalp, some of the warmth from his fingers suffusing through the thick covering of her hair. A part of her latched onto his tenderness, desperate to find an anchor.

**Get away from him my dear daughter, **Mystique's mental residue echoed cruelly in her head. **What kind of man longs just for an emotional bond? He wants the physical part of a relationship Rogue, something which you can _never _provide.**

'Remy?' She whispered, trying to focus. But the strain was just too much. They were pressing in on all sides now, each voice she heard sending a cacophony of hurt slicing through her already fragile mind.

'Remy…help me.'

That last desperate plea, made by her own voice in a barely audible whisper, was the last thing she heard before she found herself surrounded by the psyches, each one laughing as they sent her into a fresh wave of agony.

--

'_Merde_!' Remy cursed, seeing Rogue's eyes roll up into their sockets, the white of her eyes ominously exposed. The full weight of her deceptively slender body now slumped wholly against him, testing his time-honed reflexes as he struggled to maintain a proper sense of balance. All the white, he ensured that every inch of her exposed skin stayed away from his bare arms. He cursed again, rebuking himself for not wearing his trench coat today of all days.

His mind now rationalized the next best course of action. An unconscious Rogue, he decided, was not a good thing. Particularly after what the Professor had told them that day in the War Room…

_Xavier!_

Hurridley, he slung one of her arms around his shoulder, his hand reaching across to rest on the side of her covered arm. Finally, he started off at a fast pace, holding Rogue's body close against his side, his mind mulling over the five minute drama that had just unfolded.

_Ma'be Remy pushed her too hard? After all, de fille still recoverin', from w'at Remy can gather…_

The look of pain that crossed her face did not belong there, he surmised. She was too good a person, too beautiful to be faced with anymore of the hardships life had decided to send her way.

_Woah dere Cajun. Y'readin' way too much into t'is here entire t'ing. Focus on gettin' de chere to de Professor before we even t'ink of sortin' out dat t'ing y'call a heart…_

The hallway came to an end and Remy ducked into the main foyer, fingers reaching out to rapidly punch the button on the wall.

'C'mon,' he breathed, shifting Rogue's drooping arm onto his shoulder again. A soft _ping _sounded and the carved wooden wall in front of him slid away to reveal a stainless steel interior. Remy stepped quickly into the interior, pushing the button labeled 'subbasement'. He had overheard Beast telling Storm how, together with Xavier, he was going to go over something, a stream of meaningless medical jargon going through Remy's ears and out in an instant.

The elevator shuddered to a halt, the doors opening once again. Remy darted through the subbasement, his boots clanking loudly against the metal tiled floor. Protective walls wrapped around him, the path in front of him forking off to the various other rooms the X-Men were forced to conceal from prying eyes. He heard the whirr of the containment cell, the sounds of battle coming from the Danger Room.

'It's medically impossible but it seems to have somehow _bonded _itself to the blood sample,' he heard Beast's cultured voice before Remy raised a fist to pound on the door to Doctor Henry McCoy's haven – his lab.

'Professor! _Quelque chose s'arrivé_ (Something's happened)!'

The sound of harried footsteps was heard before the door opened with a depressurized hiss. He saw the eyes behind the Beast's reading glasses widen, taking in the sight of the unconscious Rogue hanging off Remy's shoulder.

'Oh my stars and garters.'


	5. Touches

A long black limo pulled up to the main gates, surveying the imposing structure located beyond the long gravel driveway. Pillars and columns arched and rose into the sky, wall-length windows mirrored the afternoon sun and the water spurting from the fountain streamed gracefully through the air.

Of course, all this was lost on the mutant known as Irene Adler, alias Destiny. She had lost her sight as a young child, her colourful world fading slowly to be replaced by nothing more than a great sea of black, interspersed by sounds, feeling, touch and taste. Irene's grip on the wooden cane she had in her hand tightened, the tendons in her fingers and knuckles stretching. She was here on a much more important mission.

'Ma'am?' The young driver in charge of the rented car, Tom, asked, nervously clearing his throat. Irene merely nodded, sensing his uneasiness. It had been a huge risk simply asking the man to drive her here.

'Thank you for your services,' Irene said politely, reaching into her pocket. She pressed the thick bundle into his hands, gently closing his fingers over the money. She heard the soft intake of breath once Tom took in the amount she had paid him.

'This-'

'Not many people would have done this, young man. Especially during these times,' Irene replied simply. 'Please accept it as a token of my gratitude. Now, would you mind giving me a hand?'

She heard the door open and slam shut, Tom's shoes scuffing noisily against the road as he came over to assist her. Irene felt the cool air hit her face and Tom's clammy hands tentatively grasp her wrist, helping her out of the car. She could hear the soft whirr of the security pad she knew was located to her left.

'Once again, thank you,' she told Tom.

'It…it was a pleasure ma'am.'

She heard the engine rev up, the motors coming to life. The tires crunched stones and random twigs and she heard the noise die away slowly as young Tom exited her life. Perhaps Xavier's ideals weren't as redundant as she had once thought. Focusing, she tapped her cane against the floor, listening intently to the sounds it made against the floor. Reaching out a hand, she felt the coarse stone that flanked both sides of the wrought iron gate. She let her fingers drift downward, the rough hewn surface suddenly giving way to a cool metal. She brushed across lightly, feeling the buttons and the LCD screen. Confidently, she pressed the button located to the right of the screen, two buttons from the top.

'Hello?'

'What do ya want?' A gruff voice answered. Irene smiled. It was the Wolverine.

'My name is Irene Adler. I wish to speak to Charles Xavier. It is of the utmost importance.'

'Yeah? Look here lady, I don't care if ya have the friggin'-'

'Logan!' She heard a second voice admonish. 'That is no way to speak to a guest. Please come in Ms Adler. The Professor anticipated your arrival. I will be there shortly to greet you.'

Irene knew that. She had made sure Charles would be alerted to her arrival.

'Ro! What tha hell do ya think you're doin'?'

'Being civil. Something you should become acquainted with.'

The rest of their argument was drowned out as the iron gates rolled back, thundering and scraping against the gravel path.

--

Remy sat beside Rogue, watching the rise and fall of her chest as she slept. An IV drip fed into her vein, her body shrouded by the blue hospital scrubs and the stark white sheets that seemed to be the bedding of choice throughout the Medbay. The smell of antiseptic lingered faintly about, and the beeps of the various contraptions that surrounded Rogue churned out unimpeded.

But all he could focus on was Rogue. She was different…peaceful. Beast had cleared away the makeup the Goth usually wore, leaving her face milky white and unmarred. The long sweep of her lashes pillowed against her cheeks, and her mouth parted slightly as she breathed in steadily every so often. Her gloves had been removed and her hands fascinated him. He had only rarely seen her without her gloves around the mansion, constantly wary as she was about unintentionally absorbing one of the other mutants inhabiting the manor. He had found a pair of latex gloves lying around, and was now amusing himself by running his finger gently down hers, his ministrations leaving behind the chalky white powder that always seemed to coat the material.

Remy had never really contemplated her situation. To go your whole life without the touch of another human being, to never allow yourself to indulge in the simple pleasure generated by the melding of two skins into one for that brief second in time. He had never really pitied her situation. In fact, he had admired her. The Prince of Thieves lived off touch – his whole life evolved around his ability to physically manipulate objects and persons. With a tap of his finger, he could charge a card, exciting the molecules enmeshed inside the slip of laminated cardboard. With a simple caress of the face and the gentle lull of his hands over her body, he could seduce, charm, and steal. Rogue touched with her eyes. Those green emeralds were really like the windows to her soul, reflecting whatever she felt no matter how hide she tried to hide it. But it seemed she really was good at masking herself…

_Why y'gotta hide chere? Jus' say de word an' Remy be dere f'y'…_

A long sigh was released. And that was the problem, wasn't it? The fact that he was willing to put all of himself – mind, body, heart and soul – into helping her. He wasn't quite sure yet what to do with these new feelings. They had burst forth one day and engulfed him, and he had had trouble trying to suppress it ever since. When he saw her, the sun seemed to be a little brighter, the day a little warmer. Deep in the recesses of his mind, he could hear his subconscious screaming at him to accept the truth. However, Remy was not ready to deal with it yet. New Orleans was still but a recent wound, and he did not want to drag a fresh new line across and let it bleed anew.

Vaguely, he heard the slight _swish _of the doors as they opened.

_Mus' be Henri t'check on y'ma chere._

The shuffling of feet stopped, and he could feel the nervous fidgeting of someone behind him. Puzzled, Remy turned to find Kitty, her hands tightly gripping a tray of food. His lips stretched thin, Remy looked at the younger girl, his prior resentment still creeping back into his blood.

'I, er, brought you some food. I thought you must be hungry or something, being here all day,' Kitty started hesitantly, her voice tripping over itself as she tried not to cringe from his angry glare. He noticed that her eyes were red and puffy. The Acadian offered a short nod of acknowledgement, his hand coming to rest lightly on Rogue's.

Shadowcat placed the tray on the bed next to Rogue's, rearranging the assortment of baked and fried goods that no doubt Ororo must have prepared for dinner.

'I'm sorry.'

Remy swallowed. 'Shouldn' be m'y' apologizin' t'_petite,_' he replied.

'I can say that it was, like, because of the heat of the moment or whatever. But that doesn't excuse what I said to her. I mean, it just kind of popped out of my mouth before I even knew what I said, ya know?'

Remy didn't respond, letting the girl's words echo around the room.

'You know, when I first met Rogue, I was totally scared outta my skin. She always had this scowl on her face, wore lots of black and liked vampire books. And then the Professor put us both together in a room, and I began to realize that she wasn't all that bad.'

A noncommittal grunt issued from his mouth. Part of him was curious about the friendship that had developed between the two girls.

'Rogue was just a normal girl. She liked shopping, hang out…she even liked to talk about boys. I think if it wasn't for her mutation, she'd have all the guys down here tripping over their feet wanting to ask her out. But because of her skin, she's got this idea in her head that she's dangerous, that if she even let herself have a little fun and let loose and forgot just for a day who she was, that'd she lose control. And after that incident at the concert with Risty-'

'Mystique _oui_?'

'Yeah. Talk about betrayal. It was really hard to be around her after that. She was worse than usual. I mean, she'd spoken to me before about how she felt about her family and stuff. About Kurt. About Logan. But she never once mentioned anything about Mystique.'

'She trusts y'.' The statement was simple, to the point.

'Yeah. And I felt honoured. Rogue doesn't trust easy, and when she does, she puts all her heart into your relationship. She was the only one who stood up for me when me and Lance were together. She knew that Lance wasn't a bad guy. She used to live with him. And I guess Rogue always saw herself as the enemy. I mean, she was with the Brotherhood and sometimes, when we were first starting out, the other's would look and her and wonder. And she'd always push herself, go that extra mile, just to prove to them how she was on their side. But Remy, she's different with you.'

Gambit raised an eyebrow.

'You make her happy. Whenever she's with you, it's like that black cloud that's always over her head goes away and she _smiles_! She laughs more, she teases, she banters…she's just so _alive_. And I see the way she looks at you,' Kitty said, looking at him. Remy tried to remain impassive, but he couldn't help a small smile from showing through.

'I knew it,' Kitty sighed. 'Rogue gets that same dopey look on her face too. I know you're angry with me for what I said to Rogue. No one is more angry at myself than me,' Kitty concluded, her tone sad and heavy. Remy lifted a hand to her shoulder, squeezing it gently.

'I'm gonna tell you something and I want you to promise me that you'll do it.'

'_Mais chaton_, Remy be-'

'_Promise me_ Remy.'

The Cajun drew back, slightly startled by the vehement tone of the girl's voice. He nodded his head, his hands subconsciously gripping Rogue's. He saw Kitty's eyes travel to their intertwined fingers, a wistful quirk of her lips and the slight softening of her eyes the only change in her expression.

'When she wakes up, don't let her leave you alone.'

'_Quoi?_'

'Rogue pushes away the people she loves most. Don't let her do that with you,' Kitty said, standing up. Remy felt his jaw unhinge just a bit.

'When she wakes up, would you mind coming to get me?' Kitty asked, clearing her throat.

'Sure, Kitty. Y'be de firs' one Remy finds.'

Nodding her head, Kitty looked down at Rogue. Her next actions took Remy by surprise. Smoothing down some of her hair to cover her forehead, Kitty placed a small kiss on her best friend. Seeing his shocked expression, Kitty smiled feebly.

'I was never afraid of her skin,' she said, before finally departing.


	6. Destiny

**A/N:**

**BOLD LETTERS – psyches**

**_ITALIZED LETTERS _– thoughts, flashbacks**

**Oh wow! Another update! Procrastination has it's benefits.**

--

'How is she Hank?' Xavier asked, stopping his wheelchair a few inches away from the bed. The young gothic girl lay unmoving, her green eyes closed to the world. He turned his attention to Doctor Hank McCoy, watching as he removed his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose, a deep sigh rumbling out from his mouth.

'Physically, she's fine. A bit dehydrated and exhausted, but nothing a few days of bed rest will not remedy,' the Beast replied. It seemed surreal, the articulated speech spilling out from such a primitive creature. His blue fur rippled slightly as he placed his glasses back on.

'That is good to hear,' Xavier murmured, digesting the information. He was not surprised by Beast's observations. He had started to notice the subtle dark bags under Rogue's eyes after their battle with Apocalypse had ended. She had also withdrawn into herself more, spending less time with the other mutants in the mansion. Though, much to Logan's consternation, a certain Remy LeBeau had taken quite a liking to the usually sharp-tongued young girl.

'I presume that you are more concerned with her metal wellbeing?' Beast asked. Xavier turned to him, shifting his gaze away from Rogue to the former Bayville High teacher.

'You are aware of the sessions me and Rogue have been having?' Xavier started and then continued when Beast nodded his head. 'It was meant to stabilize her mind. Apocalypse gaining control of her had wrecked so much psychic damage; I found it impossible to contemplate where to begin. But gradually, with Rogue's stubborn nature and determination, the both of us managed to return her mind to what it was before, though with a cost.'

Beast raised an eyebrow. Xavier hesitated, knowing that Rogue would be extremely angry once she had found out he had broken their code of silence on this issue.

'Apocalypse is still in her mind, locked away by barriers that the two of us erected.'

Silence greeted his proclamation, broken by the steady beeping of the heart monitor. Xavier watched as Beast's eyes widened, rapidly going from Rogue to him.

'You mean…'

'I am afraid, and god willing that I am proven wrong, that Apocalypse might be trying to break free. That is the only reason I can give for Rogue's sudden lapse,' Xavier said, remorse threading through his voice. He heard Beast swallow audibly.

'You must understand that it is absolutely essential that this information remains between the two of us, and two of us only,' Xavier said, his voice steely.

'The last thing she would need would be people putting more distance between her and them,' Beast replied, nodding in understanding. The massive hand cradling Rogue's clipboard shook slightly, but the ape-like mutant controlled himself. She was just a child, he reminded himself, victim to the cruel fate of destiny.

'Irene came to see me,' Xavier announced.

'Rogue's foster mother? I wasn't aware that she needed to be contacted,' Beast replied, confused.

'Irene is better known as Destiny. She is renowned for her precognition, her ability to see the twists and turns of the future. She foresaw Rogue's manifestation of her powers, knew that in the end Rogue would leave the Brotherhood to become an X-Men, knew that Apocalypse would use her as his vessel,' Xavier repeated, his mind combing through the meeting he had had with Destiny the previous day. His brow furrowed, recalling the words Irene had passed to him.

'_The stealer of souls will house his spirit,_

_And the mighty that fell will arise._

_Humanity will split and fall,_

_Unless the one with green and white forestall.'_

_Irene looked at him. She had removed her glasses before the meeting had begun, and she now regarded him with pale, milky irises, her pupils constantly shifting and trying to focus. Xavier sucked in a breath._

'_You cannot mean-'_

'_Rogue is destined to this path, no matter which future I foresee. And in every one, young Remy LeBeau plays a prominent part. Bad things are on the horizon Charles. We cannot protect the children; we cannot protect **her**, any longer. They **must **fight, or Apocalypse's previous venture will pale in comparison.'_

'_Have you told Mystique?' Charles wondered aloud. Irene's lips twisted into a wry smile. _

'_Raven has been contacted,' Irene said, offering no further explanation._

'To have to endure all of this,' Xavier sighed, looking sadly at the young teenage girl sleeping soundly in her cot. 'I do not want to bring this upon her Hank.'

'None of us do, Charles. None of us do.'

--

It was black. Everywhere she looked; there was this endless screen of black stretching out as far as the eye could see.

'Where tha hell am Ah?' Rogue muttered to herself. She looked down at herself and blinked. She was wearing the same clothes the day she had kissed Cody. Gingerly, she fingered the hole in her white shirt, a small grin forming on her lips. They had been running along the banks of the river. She remembered the slightly brackish smell of the water, the warm touch of the sun on her skin. Cody had grabbed at her shirt as she flitted away from him, the air filled with her laughter and the tearing of cloth as she danced playfully out of his reach. Then her world had come crashing down. The smile died from her lips.

Shaking her head, Rogue squinted, trying to find any sort of discernable _anything_. The last thing she remembered was falling down into Remy's arms, feeling the gentle strokes of his fingers through her hair.

'Am Ah in mah mind?'

Whenever she had worked with the Professor, they had been on some kind of floating luminescent blue platform. Periwinkle blue. And everything else had been pink, tiny molecules of psychic matter, she supposed, floating around aimlessly. It had never been this _black_.

'Well, not lahke Ah can jus' stand around,' Rogue muttered to herself. Aimlessly, she wandered around.

**Well, well, well. Look what we have here. Fresh meat.**

Spinning around, Rogue readied herself into a defensive position. The voice seemed to echo all around her, bouncing off and reverberating until it petered out. Her eyes shifted around nervously, her mouth going dry as she tried to keep her breathing slow and steady.

'Whose there?' She called out, glad when her voice didn't crack.

**Don't you remember me? I wanted to hear you scream.**

'Sabertooth,' Rogue spat out. 'Too scared ta face meh, kitty? Come out so Ah can see ya ugly face!'

Suddenly, white particles shot out from the black, gravitating to a spot a few feet in front of her. As Rogue took a few steps back, her eyes large with confusion, the particles coalesced into a recognizable form. It was Sabertooth was made of styrofoam bits, all strung together with some kind of invisible glue. His eyes though, glowed a haunting yellow.

'What tha f-?'

**Pretty little slip like you shouldn't say such…filthy words. **

His mouth didn't move, but his answer came out crystal clear. Something coiled in her stomach.

**Back off Sabertooth.**

Another voice. Rogue saw more particles detatch themselves. Scott.

'Cyke?' Rogue swallowed, feeling like someone had slipped a cube of ice down her back.

**I wasn't gonna finish her off or anything. Would have left plenty for you One-Eye.**

Rogue gaped, her stance faltering. Were Sabertooth and Scott being _decent _to each other?

'Scott?' Rogue asked, watching as the yellow of Cyclop's visor flashed briefly.

**Don't talk to me. It's because of you that I'm stuck in this place.**

It felt like being punched in the gut. Hearing Scott's voice in her head, and seeing a figment of Scott saying those words felt completely different. This time, his tone carried more bite, as if just seeing her made him want to sneer with revulsion.

**Like, totally. It's your fault we're all stuck in here, you stupid Goth.**

'Kitty?' Sure enough, the slender form of her roommate materialized next to Logan's arch enemy.

**What, Rogue? You expect us to feel sorry for you? Oh poor little Rogue – can't touch anyone for the rest of her life. Well guess what? I'd rather see you _dead _than see you touch, you worthless piece of trash!**

'Tabby?'

**You're not _meine schwester_! You're nothing but a killer.**

'No Kurt, _please_. Ah didn' wan' any of this ta happen!'

**And, like, you think we did?**

'Why won' ya jus' leave meh _alone_? Ah didn' ask for any of this! All Ah wan' is ta be normal!' Rogue screamed. She felt something wet and salty fall onto her lips, felt her nose start to run. 'Ah never wanted any of ya'll ta be stuck up here! Ya gotta believe meh!'

More and more shapes were filling the once empty, ebony void. Shifting white forms pressed all around her, their yellows eyes piercing into her, accusing her. Their voices rose into a crescendo, belittling her, blaming her. Rogue pressed the heels of her palms onto her ears, digging and grinding them in so she could block out their voices. Sobs wracked her body as she tried to curl up further into herself as the psyches boxed her in. The air around her became cold and frigid, and Rogue screamed as one of the figures reached down to grab her hair. She felt a short eruption of pain as it pulled her to her feet.

**Ya don' deserve ta live.**

A sob hitched in her throat as she saw Logan's face – no, no, it wasn't his face! – inches from hers. His teeth were bared, his lips stretched back into a feral smile. He yanked on her head, and Rogue felt as if he was trying to tear out her hair in a single swoop. She heard the murmured assent ripple through the rest of the figures, and she felt her chest tighten.

**Get outta here before ya make me sick.**

Rogue felt herself being violently pushed to the ground, felt her knees crack as she landed in a heap on the floor.

'Please…Ah didn' mean for any of this ta happen-'

She saw Logan's stare and it made her heart break in two. She had seen him look at Sabertooth like that, at Mystique like that. He hated her. She looked around, trying to ignore the pain in her head and in her knees. They all hated her. Slowly, the psyches started to disintegrate, the white particles swirling violently around her. She saw a silver of light appear, the small line slowly stretching, the light eating away at the darkness as it consumed the black.

'Ah'm so sorry,' Rogue whispered. And then she felt like she was falling, falling, falling…

'_Chere_?'

Rogue's eyes flew open, blinking as she took in the harsh fluorescent light streaming down from the fixtures on the ceiling. She shivered, feeling cold, stale air wrap around her like a cocoon. Were the psyches still here?

'_Chere_? Y'okay?' She felt a tentative whisper on her skin.

'Don' touch meh!' Rogue screamed, her vision blurring as she swept her eyes frantically around the white room. Where was all the black? Her face riveted to the person sitting at her bedside. Red on black eyes.

'Ah said Ah was sorry! Ah didn' want ta be a killer!' She screamed. She couldn't have those hateful words coming from Remy's mouth as well. Anyone but Remy.

Remy wore a confused look on his face.

'Remy never t'ought y'were a killer, _chere_.'

His eyes weren't yellow. The room wasn't black. He wasn't made of white particles. But most important of all, _his eyes weren't yellow_.

'Rem…Remy?' Rogue sobbed, her bearing finally grounding themselves.

'_Oui, ma belle fille_.'

Rogue latched onto his shirt, burrowing her face into his shirt, letting her tears fall and stain the material as she wrapped her arms around the Cajun.

'Remy's here, Rogue. Remy's here.'


	7. Tears

Remy clutched a sobbing Rogue in his arms, grateful he had changed into a long-sleeved shirt after his shower.

Xavier had given him a knowing smile when he had reentered the Medbay, and Remy had watched with detached interest as the Professor and the mansion's resident doctor exited, both voices lowered to a murmur and their heads bent together. He had shrugged it off in the end, settling himself down next to Rogue and drawing open a pack of cards he had brought with him to pass the time. Remy had found himself drifting off into space, a single card sliding effortlessly between his fingers as he timed his breathing to Rogue's inhaled breaths.

Initially, she had just started mumbling. Incoherent phrases drifted out, Remy growing more and more worried as he saw her face screw up in pain and her breathing becoming erratic. He had just decided to go phone Beast when Rogue had shot up from her bed, her eyes snapping open and filling with tears.

_Killer. She called herself a killer._

He wondered what had reduced the usually unflappable Rogue to tears.

But all that was pushed to the back of his mind as he held her, his face instinctively burrowing into her hair and his hands rubbing soothing circles along the long of her back. He didn't know what else to do. Should he whisper false words of comfort into her ears, promising her that everything would be alright? Or should he say nothing at all, and just let his touch lend her some comfort? He felt that if he made the wrong choice, he would shatter the small amount of solace his presence seemed to bring her and she would sit alone in her bed, every sob erupting from her frail body ripping into his skin like a new wound.

He heard her cries soften and then eventually die out. She didn't remove herself from the embrace. Remy smiled, amused. Rogue almost always got embarrassed whenever he showed her any sign of physical affection. First, she would blush furiously and then stutter out a feeble complaint. Finally, she would resort to anger and sarcasm, huffing as she pushed him away.

'Y'feel better now _chere_?' Remy asked quietly. He felt her nod against his chest, the tip of her nose causing tiny sparks of electricity to erupt as it brushed against his shirt. Gambit suppressed a shiver, instead gently releasing Rogue. As he predicted, she immediately extricated herself, putting as much space between them as her tiny cot would allow. He watched as she fiddled with the edge of a blanket, her fingers nimbly pulling at the frayed threads. Remy sighed mentally, glad that she had stopped her weeping.

'Remy jus' gonna get de good doctor-'

'No!' Rogue shouted, interrupting him. Her gaze snapped up from the blanket to his face, dried tears still present on her cheeks. 'Jus'…jus' give meh a few minutes.'

'Ok. W'atever y'wan' _chere_.'

A silence descended around the Medbay, one teenager cautiously avoiding any eye contact as the other watched her attempts with barely concealed concern. The cards he had brought with him lay untouched, and the card he had been fiddling with had sprung out of his hands and landed clear across the room. Remy was thankful he hadn't accidentally charged it in surprise. Again he felt awkward. What should he do? Confronting her in this state never boded well. Rogue was a very private person, guarding her past and her secrets with a bloodthirsty determination only seconded by the Wolverine. All the time he had spent at the mansion, and Remy barely felt like he had cracked open even a small part of that formidable wall she had erected around herself.

Rogue inhaled harshly, letting out drawn out breaths, as if trying to expel the demons that resided in her. She was clutching her hand, her focus numbly fixated on the small pearls of blood that were leaking out. The IV line hung limply from the stand, ripped out when Rogue had collapsed into his arms. Remy's fingers pulled at the wet spot on his shirt.

'Voices…so many voices,' he heard her mutter. Her hands gripped the sheets, her knuckles turning white. Remy opened his mouth, but before he could even utter a word, Beast hurried into the room.

'Rogue! Are you alright?' Hank McCoy's voice broke through the solace of the room. One of his large hands plucked the stethoscope off his neck, adjusting the instrument in his ears. Remy saw Rogue stiffen slightly as the cool metal was pressed against her chest, Beast steadily listening to her heart. For a moment, those jade eyes met with his red on black ones, and time seemed to still. But just as suddenly, the spell was broken as the young woman looked away.

'Ah'm…Ah'm fahne,' she said. The hysterical edge to her voice had dulled, but was still present.

'Remy, would you mind getting the Professor?' The Beast enquired. Remy nodded mutely, his eyes still on Rogue as she chewed absently on her bottom lip.

'Now,' Beast said sharply. Walking out of the room, Remy chanced one more look over his shoulder at the pale Rogue before hurrying away to fulfill the Doctor's request.

--

Rogue sat alone in the room. Beast had left a few minutes ago, promising to be back soon after he had ran some tests on the samples he had taken from her. Subconsciously she rubbed at the spot where he had drawn out some blood, the skin there prickling with pain whenever she so much as moved. She willed her eyes to stop blinking, staring blankly ahead at the whitewashed walls as tears threatened to erupt once more. In a way, Rogue was grateful for the white. It pushed away the memories of being in that black space, surrounded by all those unforgiving eyes.

And, _lordy_, she had _cried_, her tears spilling all over _Remy _of all people. Rogue winced, remembering what she had screamed out before she had collapsed in his arms. It was too much to hope that he would forget. The boy had been blessed with the memory of an elephant. But still, it had felt nice to be held by him. His arms had been strong, and his body had felt warm. Shaking her head and trying to ignore the traitorous blush spreading over her cheeks, Rogue tried to wipe her mind clean.

_Ya don' deserve to live._

Maybe she didn't. Rogue glanced down at her uncovered skin, feeling the cool air of the air-conditioning touch her skin, raising goosebumps along her forearm. Her very _being _brought pain and suffering, didn't it? One touch was all it took for her to end someone's life and take away their memories, their thoughts, and their secrets. She was more a weapon than a person, less than what an X-Man should be.

_Get outta here before ya make me sick._

Was it because it had been _Logan _who had said those words? Was that why they had stung so badly and managed to worm their way under her normally impenetrable skin? Was that what Logan really thought of her? After all, it was his psyche that had said it, and the psyches were the phantom forms of their more tangible counterparts. So there had to be some element of truth in those words. A ragged sigh escaped her lips. Rogue felt tired, as if her body were made of lead. She always felt tired. So engrossed was Rogue in her thoughts that she failed to detect the harsh tapping sound of Irene's cane on the linoleum floor.

'Marie my child.'

Rogue's eyes widened and her head swiveled round.

'_Mama?' _No matter Mystique's revelation that she was Rogue's rightful biological mother, Irene would always be the maternal figurehead in her life. This woman had raised and nurtured Rogue, and had given her unconditional love. All Mystique had wanted, despite her claims that she loved her children immeasurably, was to raise her daughter as a weapon, a tool in the quest for power. As far as Rogue was concerned, Mystique could shove it.

'I heard from Charles that things haven't been…_pleasant_…lately?' Irene asked, her mouth quirking into a sardonic half-grin. Rogue watched as Destiny maneuvered her way effortlessly to the chair Remy had previously been sitting on. Instinctively, Rogue shuffled sideways to put more space between them. The flimsy hospital gown and sheets offered scant protection. Hearing the rustle of cloth, Irene raised an eyebrow.

'You're afraid.' The statement was blunt and to the point.

'Ah jus' don' wanna touch ya, is all.' Rogue tried vainly to suppress the crack in her voice. She saw Irene's face soften with something akin to pity and concern. Rogue didn't want her pity.

'Marie-'

'It's Rogue, Mama. No one here knows mah real name. Ah'd lahke to keep it that way.'

'Rogue,' Irene continued, smoothly, as if Rogue's vehement outburst hadn't occurred. 'This isn't a social call.'

Rogue was not surprised. With the rising anti-mutant sentiment sweeping across the country, it would have been foolish for Irene to attempt to visit her. Also, it had been years since Rogue had actually seen Irene. The sting of realizing that the blind mutant had raised Rogue because of Mystique's wishes had dulled somewhat, but it was still there, no matter the love that Rogue felt for Irene.

'Charles wanted to wait till you had a bit more time to recuperate, to tell you this himself. But I'm afraid that time has become a commodity that we cannot waste, and I believe since it was something I foresaw, I should be the one to tell you,' Irene finished somewhat bitingly. A tremor of foreboding passed through Rogue's body. Irene's visions were never good.

'Wha…what is it?' Rogue asked in a whisper. _No more. Ah can' take anymore…_

'Apocalypse is in you Rogue.'

A heavy silence descended upon the room as Rogue's knuckles turned white.

'He is going to use you as a vessel to ensure that his goal of wiping out humanity is achieved. My vision was not specific of how he would do this. I believe that he will either take over your mind and use your powers as the last time. Or he could very well manifest himself in your body and use it as his own.'

Rogue swallowed. _No. No. NO! Ah can' take this anymore! Why can' all of ya'll just leave meh alone?_

'You have to stop him Rogue. No one else can.'

Something inside Rogue snapped. It had pulsed and throbbed throughout her body for periods of time. The thin string with which she used to keep her emotions in check stretched and broke apart.

'STOP IT!' Rogue sobbed. 'Why can' ya'll just leave meh alone? Ah don' wan' any of this to happen…' Speech became difficult as her breathing hitched and her tears came out in bursts.

'Rogue…' Irene began soothingly.

'JUS' LEAVE MEH ALONE!' Rogue screamed vehemently. Distantly, she heard Irene sigh.

_A tool. Ah'll always be nothin' but a goddamn tool._

The cane tapping against the floor. Irene was leaving.

_Ah don' wan' tah be someone's vessel. Ah jus' want…Ah jus' want tah be free._

--

Kitty balanced the tray of chocolate chip cookies precariously as the elevator doors opened. Whenever she and Rogue had found themselves in the kitchen past midnight, the Southerner had always made it a point to crack open the jar filled with the Beast's heavenly treats. If nothing else, the baked goods would be an ideal peace offering.

As promised, Remy had found her when Rogue had awakened. Her eyes had narrowed suspiciously at the damp spot on Gambit's shirt, but he had remained tight lipped about it's origin. Before announcing that he was going to take a shower, upon which Kitty had dutifully replied that he absolutely _stank_, Remy had told her to wait a while before assaulting Rogue. Beast was in there doing something medical, and the Professor had told Remy to keep a wide berth of the Medbay for at least a decent amount of time.

Well half an hour was as good as any. With a resolute nod, Kitty had hastily grabbed the most conservative clothing she had, mindful of the hospital gowns and Rogue's determination to avoid direct skin to skin contact, and bounded down to the basement.

The stark smell of antiseptic filled her nostrils as Kitty continued down the hallway. Everything seemed eerily quiet as she drew closer to Rogue's room. Maybe that meant the Professor really had finished up. Kitty had assumed that Xavier would still be down there, and had also brought the cookies along as a bribe had that been the case.

_Is that…is someone crying?_

The staccato sounds of someone weeping suddenly invaded the still air. Hurrying, Kitty rushed to Rogue's room. One glance at the shivering, shaking form of her best friend drove all possible consequences from her mind. Dumping the cookies unceremoniously on a nearby bed, Kitty enveloped Rogue in a tight embrace, gently smoothing the Goth's hair. Sensing the habitual jerk away from her that Kitty had expected, the Valley Girl tightened her hold.

'Stop trying to push me away Rogue. Just let me help you,' Kitty whispered. Rogue stiffened for a moment, before slumping down in utter defeat. As Rogue cried for herself, Kitty's heart cried for Rogue.


	8. What A Child Says

**A/N:**

_**Flashback**_

_Thoughts_

'Speech'

--

A warm breeze drifted through the lace curtains. In the middle of the room a four posted canopy bed sat resplendent, muted white sheets and a sheer organza curtain lending it an air of elegance. Picking up a battered teddy bear, a teenage Rogue took in her surroundings warily. This had been her bedroom in Caldecott.

A thundering of footsteps and the door flew open, revealing two giggling children. A young Rogue tumbled into the room, her auburn and white hair bunched back into pigtails and her clothes streaked with mud. Beside her, a young boy with blond hair and cornflower blue eyes gasped for breath, a finger pointed accusingly at his female companion. Green eyes widened.

_What in tha blue hell?_

'Marie!' The young boy cried out, 'ya wasn' supposed ta let 'em know we was there!'

'It ain' mah fault ya'll are so _slow_,' Marie replied, sticking her tongue out as she collapsed onto the bed. Rogue sat immobile as Marie lay inches from her. Couldn't she see her?

_Prolly another memory._

For the life of her, Rogue couldn't recall this day. Watching Marie and Cody grin widely at each other, she wondered why. Happy moments like these were hard to come by these days.

'Don' he look slow Rogue?' Marie asked, turning to her. Oh, she _could _see her. This was new.

'Ya'll aren't supposed to be able ta see meh,' Rogue stuttered out. Rolling his eyes, Cody tugged on Rogue's arm. His small hand felt warm and calloused and sandy. Rogue looked down to see he was grasping her bare wrist. She waited for the inevitable pull, which failed to manifest itself.

'Ya shouldn' be so sad,' Cody said, his blue innocent eyes looking up at her.

'He's rahght. Ya always so moody,' Marie agreed, kicking her legs up in the air.

'It wasn' ya fault that ya absorbed meh,' Cody said. Marie nodded in agreement. 'Ah don' blame ya. Well, tha part of meh in ya doesn'.'

Rogue listened to them talking, wondering if she had finally, _finally_, gone over the deep edge.

'An' Mistah Logan didn' really mean those nasty things he said to ya,' Marie burst out, grabbing Rogue's other hand. 'It's jus' ya mind playin' tricks on ya.'

'It's lahke Cody said,' Rogue whispered. 'A part of him is still in meh. So it's true.'

'No it ain'!' Both Marie and Cody denied passionately.

'It's that big, nasty man that's in here. He's tryna make everythin' all dark and scary lahke in here,' Marie said sulkily. Cody nodded.

'Yeah. He's been tryna keep us locked up in this here room. Me and Marie wanna play in the fields! Ain' nothin' lahke swimming aroun' in tha river ta make tha day go by,' he said with childish aplomb.

'Man?' Rogue queried. 'Ya mean Apocalypse?'

'Is that his name?' Marie asked.

'He wears a _skirt_,' Cody said, face screwed up in disgust. Rogue had to smile at that.

'He does _too_,' Marie said, a similar picture of revulsion plastered across her features. 'Ewwww!'

'Uncle Charles-' Cody started.

'Tha Professor?' Rogue interrupted.

'_Whatever._' Cody sounded annoyed. 'He said that ya should let us out of tha room so we can help.'

'No,' Rogue answered, ignoring their protests. 'Ah can' take more of ya'll screamin' at meh, callin' meh sh-names,' Rogue hastily corrected herself. There were children present after all.

Marie let out an impatient sigh. Cody rolled his eyes.

'Ain' ya listenin' ta a word we said?' Marie demanded. 'Tha nasty man's been makin'…what d'ya call it Cody?'

'Puppets,' the boy replied with an air of wisdom.

'Are ya sure?'

'Of course Ah am! Ahm a _boy_.'

Marie raised an eyebrow. It seemed almost mocking. '_Rahght_. Anyways, tha nasty man's made puppets of _everyone in tha room_.'

'Which means that all those nasty things people been sayin' were from nasty's puppets!' Cody crowed triumphantly.

'_Ah was gonna tell her that!'_

'Ya always take too long,' Cody said dismissively. 'Girls are _slow_.'

'Am not!'

'Am to!'

'Am not!'

Suddenly, the world around them seemed to warp. Both children went quiet immediately. Rogue felt Cody's arm start to shake.

'What's tha matter?' Rogue asked.

'_He _found us,' Marie murmured, fearful.

'Let us out of the room!' Cody said, as he and Marie pulled Rogue violently to her feet. 'Go! Before he comes and gets us!'

'But…how am Ah supposed to do that?' Rogue asked as they propelled her towards the door. The room seemed to spin all around them.

'Find tha key, silly,' Cody responded, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

'Where?' Rogue cried out desperately. But the door was already shut in her face and the sounds of children screaming filled the air.


	9. Ache

Xavier surveyed Rogue as she nibbled absently on a chocolate chip cookie Ororo had left behind. The tall window panes of his study let the noon light filter through unimpeded and cast shadows against the heavy wood furniture that decorated the room. It also highlighted the almost gaunt appearance of the girl in front of him, causing a dull thread of pain in his heart.

'So you are saying that Apocalypse has created replicas of the psyches in your head?' Xavier finally said. Although faint, the Professor could sense Remy's presence nearby. And it was almost hard to ignore the blatant existence of Kurt and Kitty lurking somewhere behind the door.

Rogue nodded. 'They said somethin' about a key. Once Ah get tha key, Ah can let tha originals out.'

He contemplated this. How had Apocalypse managed to achieve something this _substantial_ without his knowledge? It frightened him, somewhat, the power that this mutant seemed to possess. Xavier turned his attention to the girl before him, his eyes narrowing in thought.

'Did they happen to mention what this key might be? Or where it is located?' He asked.

'No! It's lahke they expectmeh to _know _that already!' Rogue exclaimed and raked a hand viciously through her two toned hair. 'All Ah know is that they're in some kind of room, an' that ya psyche tol' 'em that Ah needed ta let 'em out.'

'It is strange that Cody appeared with you, did it not?' Xavier asked, referring to the vision that she had described to him. He had detected a note of wistfulness and anguish whenever Rogue had said the name, and a part of him was curious as to the boy's impact upon Rogue's childhood. He saw Rogue pause in her chewing, and then swallow slowly, staring at her skin.

'Perhaps your mind manifested the most trusted person you knew,' Xavier replied kindly. Rogue let out a bitter laugh, the sound marred by scars too deep for someone her age. No words were exchanged as Rogue begun mechanically finishing her cookie, and Xavier stared out the window into the clear blue sky. The appearance of Cody in her vision tickled the edge of his understanding, giving him another piece of the puzzle that he had to fit neatly somewhere to make the picture more coherent. But perhaps it was best not to push Rogue any further today.

'If ya don' mind Professah, Ah'm goin' ta mah room.'

'Of course Rogue,' Xavier responded with understanding. He faintly heard the faint sound of Kurt teleporting and Kitty's slight shriek of surprise before the pungent smell of brimstone creeped into the study. Subtlety was not Nightcrawler's strength unless called for, it seemed. The Professor saw Rogue glance hesitantly at him, as if wanting to say something. Xavier slanted the girl an encouraging look.

'If Apocalypse really does plan ta use meh as some kind of vessel, maybe ya need ta start thinkin' of ways ta permenantly remove meh from tha problem,' Rogue said, schooling her face to show no emotion. Xavier let the statement hang in the air.

'You know that I cannot do that Rogue.'

Without a word, Rogue folded herself out of the chair. Xavier heard the solid thud of the door as it closed behind the Goth, and his gaze returned to the sky, the dull ache that had been in his heart intensified.

---

Rogue tried in vain to regain her composure as she made her way past the deserted corridor outside the Professor's study. The pungent smell that Kurt had left behind lingered the air and a part of her felt that she should be angry that they had invaded what small bubble of privacy that she had managed to keep. Distantly, she wondered if Irene was still somewhere in the mansion.

It had indeed been strange that Cody had appeared alongside a young Marie in her vision. Rogue wondered if he had ever gotten out of the coma she had put him in. She had never asked Irene, and Destiny had never told her. A small smile graced her lips as she remembered a time when everything had seemed simple, when her mutation had been nothing but a rare skin condition that had needed to be covered up.

Rogue's feet sunk into the plush carpet as she bypassed the main hub of activity within the mansion. The kitchen was always filled with teenage mutants trying to sate their appetite, and she didn't feel like being stared at again. The whispers would start and no matter how hard she tried to ignore them, sooner or later those words would crawl under her skin and start to affect her. She was actually surprised that she hadn't run into anyone, especially Remy. Whenever she got hurt on a mission, he had an annoying habit of treating her like some kind of frail glass doll.

'_Bonjour chere_.'

Gambit's smooth voice _almost _made Rogue jump out of her skin. Drawing in a deep breath to calm her racing heart, Rogue's mind cast around for something to say that wouldn't seem awkward. After all, the last time she had seen him she had broken down like some weak, pathetic helpless girl.

'Do ya _always _have ta slink aroun' lahke some goddam' cat, Swamp Rat?' Anger was always her default emotion. He was behind her so she kept walking, hoping that that would throw him off. She quickened her pace when she heard his footsteps behind her, now loud and deliberate so that she could hear them. Sighing in defeat, Rogue turned around to face him, her eyes closed. After everything that had happened, she just wanted to sit down somewhere and _think_.

'_What _Remy?' She opened her eyes and found the Acadian regarding her without his usual smile. Instead, an expression she had never seen before was plastered across his features.

'Y'okay?' He simply asked, standing there and looking at her intently as he waited for her reply.

'Look, Ah already _know _ya were outside tha Professah's study lurkin' abou'.'

'T'at ain' w'at Remy was askin' abou' _chere_.'

Rogue found herself growing frustrated again.

'How d'ya _think _Ah feel Swamp Rat? Ah've jus' had someone tell meh that some psychopathic mutant wants ta use mah body ta wipe out humankind. Ah don' know,' Rogue said sarcastically. 'Maybe Ah feel…'

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Remy's hands reach for hers. Instinctively, she found herself taking a step back. Cody had touched her, and she had seen the veins protrude through his skin and his eyes roll back. No one should ever touch her.

'I ain' gonna hurt y',' she heard Remy whisper to her as his fingers lingered closer to her wrists. Numbly, Rogue watched as he encircled both her hands. And then, her mind registered that she wasn't wearing her gloves. She jerked back, trying to escape his grasp.

'It's alrigh' _petite_. I got gloves on, see?' He wiggled his leather covered digits in front of her. Seeing the leather, Rogue relaxed.

'Remy?' Rogue found herself saying.

'Oui?'

It was as if she couldn't control herself. A small part of her reminded her that she had already cried in front of him, what was the harm in doing it again? Another part inhaled the familiar smell that Remy carried around and sought the comfort that the Cajun seemed to bring her. Tears tracked down her cheeks as she looked at him, his face blurring around the edges. She saw that same unreadable expression on his face and then Rogue felt her head being pressed against his chest and his fingers running soothingly through her hair.

'C'mon _chere_. Y'room jus' be round the corner. Remy don' t'ink y'want t' see the others yet, _non_?'

She let him lead her to her room. Still not letting go of her, Remy jiggled the door open and poked his head inside. Grinning broadly to show that there was no one inside, he tugged her in.

Rogue followed him obediently, a small part of her taking in the solace that her room offered. The deep emerald green that she and Kitty had agreed upon reminded Rogue of a lush oasis. Of course, she noted dryly, the effect was somewhat hampered by the explosion of pink and riot of soft toys scattered around Kitty's half of the room.

Collapsing against her bed, Rogue snuggled deeper into the soft pillows and felt her tired muscles sigh in relief. Ignoring the Cajun's soft chuckle, Rogue shimmied out of her combat boots to lay spread eagled on the bed.

'Ya can go now.' Rogue hadn't meant to sound so rude, but she could still feel Remy's stare burning through her skin. It felt like someone had sent electricity zinging through her body, making her toes curl and her body shiver with delight.

'Remy ain' gonna let y'die Rogue.'

That did it. Her eyes snapped open and she jotled upright. 'What? What are ya talkin' abou'?'

'Heard y'speakin' t'de Professor.'

Rogue swallowed. She didn't want to have this conversation now, not yet. 'It ain' _your _decision Cajun. It's _mine_. Ah ain' gonna loose control again. Too many people got hurt because of meh. Ah don' wan' that ta happen again.'

Remy's eyes narrowed and something flickered across his eyes. It was something that called to her and made her uneasy and excited at the same time.

'D'ya know what its lahke, Rem?' Rogue began. She saw him start at the affectionate nickname. 'Ah know everyone says that it ain' mah fault, that ya'll can help meh find a way outta this mess. Ya can'. It's all up here,' she continued, tapping her temple. 'If tha Professor can' help meh, Ah sure as hell can'. No matter what Cody said.' The last part was said in a whisper, not meant for Remy's ears.

'Dis here matyr charade ain' workin' _chere_,' Remy said softly. Rogue's anger snapped.

'Ah ain' tryna be some kinda saint. If it's a choice between hundreds of lives bein' spared, or mine-'

'Y'life is jus' as important!' Remy yelled, loosing all pretence of calm. 'I ain' gonna sit by an' watch some _bâtard derange _sacrifice y'!'

Rogue stared at him as he focused those eyes unwaveringly upon her. Instinctively, almost by its own accord, his hand reached out to cup her cheek. She leaned in to his touch, suddenly hungry for what comfort he could offer. Her cheeks were still sticky with tears and she was horrified to learn that her eyes were misting over again.

'Ya done nothing but make meh cry Remy,' Rogue whispered. The Acadian bestowed a soft smile upon her, a finger rubbing her face tenderly.

_**Marie felt Cody slip his fingers through hers, their palms touching.**_

'Jus' sleep _mon chéri_. Remy will be here when y'wake up.'

'_**Do ya trust me Marie?'**_

Clasping his hand, Rogue gently tugged Remy towards her. She knew he would be careful. Heedlessly, Remy doffed his own boots and lay down next to Rogue. Dragging the comforter to wrap her up, he wound his arms around the sheets and tucked her head under his chin.

'_**Always, Cody, always.'**_


End file.
